


Until the End of the World

by blakefancier



Category: Drake's Venture (1980)
Genre: M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you're given a second chance. College AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the End of the World

Thomas knows they've met somewhere before, sometime long past. Before here, before school, he knows it deep in his bones. But the memory is fleeting, like a dream you can't quite remember. Anyway, it doesn't matter. He's here now, in Frank's bedroom, the party outside muffled by the door and the look in Frank's eyes.

They're the color of the sea; sometimes blues, sometimes green, always changing.

"You ever done this before?" Frank asks, leaning back against the headboard. His t-shirt lifts slightly, showing the tanned skin of his stomach. "Tom?"

He jerks slightly at the sound of his name and blushes when he realizes that he's been staring. He nervously brings the bottle of beer to his mouth and sips it, just so that he has something to do.

"You've never done this before." Frank gives a smug smile and stretches; the shirt rides up higher.

Thomas shrugs and averts his gaze. He takes another drink, but his mouth is still dry. What could he say? His parents would be appalled if they learned he was a faggot. They'd be even more appalled if they learned his latest infatuation was the Drake's eldest son. He could almost imagine the derision in their voices-- nouveau riche.

Frank reaches over and takes the bottle from his hand. He drinks deeply, his throat working.

Thomas wonders what it would be like to press his lips there; warm skin, strong pulse, the smell of his cologne. When Frank puts down the bottle, his lips are wet, and he's smiling.

"Don't be scared."

"I'm not--" Thomas's voice cracks. He stops and takes a deep breath before continuing. "I'm not frightened."

"You look scared." Frank reaches over and strokes the side of his face.

"What about Mary?" he whispers.

"What about her?" Frank runs his thumb over Thomas's bottom lip. "Oh, come on. You don't give a damn about Mary. If you did, you wouldn't be here."

He closes his eyes; Frank's hands are callused and strong and gripping his arms, pulling him close. He sighs and shudders as Frank's mouth touches his; he tastes salty.

Frank pushes him back against the bed and he draws in a quick breath. The bed is moving, rocking back and forth; the sound of his breath is loud in his ears, like the pounding of waves. It's not, of course it's not. But it's real all the same just the way this is real. God, he's wanted this for so long, ever since the first time he saw Frank at that rowing competition: all muscles and tanned skin, the way he seemed so comfortable around the water. It's all his parents' fault. They're the ones who made him go. He had wanted to stay in his dorm and study. But it was a beautiful day, and they had insisted. So, really, it was all their fault he was flat on his back on Frank's bed, slowly being undressed.

Thomas arches his back and cries out when Frank slowly, gently, circles a nipple with his tongue. Frank chuckles at his reaction, then does the same to his other nipple. He clenches the sheets, his own breath sounding loud to his ears. He whimpers and wiggles and oh God, oh God, oh God! If he goes any lower, if Frank goes any lower...

Biting kisses along his belly, suction, wet tongue, then the surprising sharpness of teeth that sends a thrum of excitement and pleasure through him. Thomas knows he should stop moaning. It's humiliating to be making so much noise just because Frank is kissing him. Just kissing him. Kissing his belly button, using his tongue to explore, holding his hips down with strong hands.

He clenches his fists into Frank's hair and moans his name. And he sounds so desperate, so *needy.* But he knows it's only because this has been a long time coming. It's been *centuries* coming.

Then Frank presses his mouth to the front of his jeans and *he's* coming. Crying out and clenching the sheets and digging his heels into the bed so that he can get closer to the warmth of Frank's mouth and just letting go.

Thomas lets go and it feels right. It feels.... perfect.

When the orgasm fades, he feels heavy with exhaustion. And embarrassed. Frank is probably dying for relief. "S-sorry."

Frank settles next to him, his face is flushed and pained.

He turns on his side and fumbles with the buttons on Frank's jeans, until he gets them open. Then he slides in a hand and touches him. His dick is hard and the tip is damp. It's not easy to get his hand around, Frank's jeans are tight, but Thomas does his best. And it seems to be enough; Frank is moaning and jerking his hips.

It's... God, it's the hottest thing he's ever seen. Frank can't seem to control himself and it's all because of him, because he's jerking him off. This is power, the only kind he wants, the safest kind, the best kind. He wants to tell Frank this, but knows he won't understand. Hell, it's his feeling and *he* doesn't understand.

Suddenly, Frank jerks hard, once, and stills, giving a low growl that goes right to Thomas's dick. And his hand is wet with Frank's come. He pulls out his hand, and wipes it on the sheets. Then he flops back on the bed, closes his eyes, and listens to Frank breathe-- it sounds like the ocean, harsh and beautiful.

"I remember the first time I saw you."

Thomas opens his eyes, startled by Frank's words. He swallows hard. "In chemistry lab?"

"No." Frank stretches and yawns. "It was after the race with Penn."

But that wasn't the first time, Thomas thinks. But no, that's ridiculous, because it was.

"I remember you because you stalked me that whole day."

"I didn't--" Thomas stops because Frank gives him a look that says denying it is futile. He flushes.

"I didn't mind." Frank adjusts himself and buttons his jeans. "You know, I broke up with Mary about two days ago."

"Oh." He's not quite sure what to say.

"Just thought you'd want to know."

"Um, okay." He sits up and does up his shirt.

"Do you like movies?"

"W-what?" For some reason, his brain is stuck on surprised. "Yeah. Yes, I like movies."

"Wanna go see Apocalypse Now with me? They're showing it at the Crest."

He stares at Frank for a long moment before realizing he should answer. "Yes, that'd be great."

"Cool." Frank smiles at him.

Thomas can't help himself, he smiles back. "Yeah, cool."

"Come on. We should get back to the party." Frank stands and offers him a hand up. "My parents are probably wondering where I've gone."

He doesn't want to go back out there; he'd rather stay in the bedroom, where it's safe. But he feels too good to argue, so he takes Frank's hand and gets to his feet. Frank doesn't let go, not until the whole room sees them holding hands.


End file.
